


Ethics of Journalism

by rosepetals42



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Coming Out, Found Family, Gen, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Samwell Mens Hockey Team, it is generally a fluffy fic though, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 02:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6405817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosepetals42/pseuds/rosepetals42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dan Erikson is assigned to write an article about Jack Zimmermann's years in college, he thinks he knows what he's getting into.</p><p>Then he meets Professor Simpson, Jack's photography professor.</p><p>[also known as: Good Guy Reporter Dan Erikson]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, as you can tell from the casual writing style (especially at the beginning), this is a tumblr not!fic that turned into real fic that I've transferred over upon request. 
> 
> You can see it in its original format at my tumblr - petals42 by using the "check please fanfiction" tag.

Okay, I’d like a fic where a reporter, maybe for a smaller online publication or maybe someone used to writing Sports Illustrated’s more “personal interest” pieces decides to go back and examine Jack Zimmermann’s college years through his assignments and by interviewing his professors. 

So, first and foremost, he has to ask permission because Samwell - well, they’ve never really had this situation before, but professors do keep student’s work on file and they decide that if they get permission from the student (in this case NHL superstar Jack Zimmermann), it is fine for them to show this work to outside parties.*

So this reporter (let's call him Dan) asks for Jack’s permission and, honestly, Jack is a little confused by the request but also a little bit excited because no one seems to take his time in college all that seriously and it drives him crazy. So he says yes without thinking about it and figures that the man will get to read a beautiful 30 pages on sports during WWII and maybe there will be a little blurb about it and that will be that. 

That is not that. Because Dan here is thorough and after he reads Jack’s thesis (which was much better than he expected and if he’s being honest, he expected some stupid jock paper that passed only because well, what college is going to fail Jack Zimmermann??)- after he reads the thesis, he is _interested_. He chats with Jack’s thesis advisor who has nothing but great things to say (”Always turned in his drafts on time, took great notes and listened to suggestions, hard working kid, I hear he’s playing some sport now?- oh! you’re a reporter, is he doing well then?”) (sorry, this is a history professor, he probably had no idea who Jack Zimmermann was while he was advising him and less of idea who he is now that he is gone… ah, spacey nerdy history professors, my fave, ANYWAY) and so Dan decides to go seek out _more_  of Jack’s work and talk to more of his professors and this means–

He finds the Photography professor. 

And, more than that, because Jack had given him permission (he has the paper and everything!) he is supposed to be allowed to see Jack’s projects. Aka the pictures he turned in for a grade.

And, for the first time, a professor gives him a hard time about letting him see Jack’s work. 

“Look, ma’am, he gave permission. He knows I’m here- see!”

“Well, I’m sure he didn’t expect you to find his senior blow-off class!”

“Oh, so he blew this class off then?”

“No! Of course not, he took it very seriously and was very talented actually. He was probably one of my most improved students.”

“So the pictures aren’t going to be embarrassing at all.”

“Well, no, but– I’m just not sure he would want everyone to see them.”

“Are they… innappropriate?” Look,  Dan is trying to be nice and he’s on Zimmermann’s side but as wonderful as the reports of Jack Zimmermann have been, a part of him is hoping beyond _all_  hope that Jack Zimmermann _finally_  did something absolutely ridiculous like turned in gross pictures to his photography class. Even if it were as a prank or something - it would humanize him a bit. If he could bring back a funny story about Jack ZImmermann…

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Professor Simpson tells him. “Jack would never turn in something inappropriate.”

“So then what’s the issue?”

“It’s just… well, I don’t see why you want to see them anyway.”

So Dan tries to explain. He tells her about how Jack Zimmermann is so careful in interviews to never really talk about himself, how he is almost _too_  quick to credit his teammates with his accomplishments, how it’s nearly impossible to get any worth while soundbite out of him (for god’s sake, he had said that his number one advice to young players was to _[eat more protein](http://petals42.tumblr.com/post/140872699659/jack-zimmermann-interviews) _ like… _seriously_ ) and how, in this day and age of social media, people want their sports heroes to do _more_  than just sports. They want to _know_  them and he says that the hockey world is no different. He notes how his editors thought this would be a good way to finally get a more personalized story about Zimmermann since a previous attempt to do an interview with him about something other than hockey had failed spectacularly.

Finally, he shows her the permission again. In fact, he opens up his phone and shows her the _chain_  of emails he has, first with a Falconer’s publicist intern, then with a woman called George (also with the Falconers), and finally with Jack Zimmerman himself. 

“So… you are trying to make him look good,” Simpson says after a long moment. 

“We’re trying to make him look like _himself_ ,” Dan allows. “This seems to be the way to do it.”

She scoffs at that, muttering something about there being an easier way to do that, but before Dan can ask her what she means, she sighs and types into the computer and then Dan gets to see the photos of Jack Zimmermann.

They are… well, they are not what he expected. He can see what she means. At the beginning he sees a lot of would-be dramatic shots of trees and buildings (and at one point a swan??) but... they get better. 

People come in. First, a boy with a mustache and long hair and he isn’t looking at the camera. It’s a close up so you can’t see who he is looking at, but his eyes are alight with interest and determination and his mouth is open in what has to be a passionate plea of some kind. Both hands are still stuffed in his jacket pocket but they are outstretched as if he wants to be waving them around while he makes whatever point he is making and it’s the first time Dan has ever seen this kid but somehow thinks he knows him anyway. It’s that kind of picture.

He’s leaned forward without realizing it and the professor stays on that picture while he examines, the part of his brain that was forced to take a photo journalism course years ago trying to decipher what exactly makes this picture so engaging. When he finally looks away to meet her eyes, she is smiling as if to say “i know- see what i mean” and then she hits the next one.

Another boy - this one small and blond and he’s not looking at the camera either. He is frowning down at a ball of dough in his hands and there is a smudge of flour on his cheek and the light from the window above the sink is flooding him and somehow he stands out against the old cabinets with their peeling paint and– He is frowning but there is laughter in his eyes as if he is more amused than angry and Dan smiles looking at it without thinking about it.

The professor doesn’t let him look as long at that one. She hurries along to another picture of the lake - this one better than his previous attempts - probably because there are two boys struggling to get into a piggyback formation in the foreground and Dan somehow already knows that Jack was probably more focused on the two of them (one huge and pale whose glasses are falling off his nose as his only slightly smaller dark friend tries to jump on him) than the background. The next is three people - the mustache, the blond, and a redhead - sitting on top of a roof that looks like its about to fall over and its the first one that’s not candid but Dan can see why Zimmermann turned it in. The smiles are still genuine and lighting is beautiful and it’s a good picture.

They are all good pictures, even if you don’t know the people in them. They keep fipping through them and for a while Dan is confused as to why the professor tried to keep him away from these because these are _great_  and, in his head, Dan is already going through getting permission to print some of these because even without Zimmermann in the pictures, these photos are something he could print alongside his article.

And then he notices it.

The pattern.

Or, not pattern. But fact. He notices the fact that gradually, there are more and more pictures of this blond boy and fewer pictures of anyone else.

It’s a close up of Blondie’s face and he is looking up at the camera (up at Zimmerman) and smiling so that his nose is crinkled and then its another series of Blondie in the kitchen - baking and _dancing_  and _smiling_  and then Blondie in front of a coffee shop, clearing waiting for someone (Jack?) while playing on his phone and he looks so cute and bundled up against the cold and then Jack had also captured the moment where he looked up and saw Jack taking pictures and there’s an eyeroll that Dan can already tell is fond rather than exasperated and suddenly it is glaringly obvious that even in group shots, the _focus_  is on the Blond kid.

Dan thinks they hit a reprieve when Jack does a series of hockey shots, only to realize that the little one - #15 - is the same kid. And even in picture where he is skating around players that tower over him, it is his grace that floods through the picture.

The last photo is one of the blond boy staring out over an ice rink, back to the camera, small against the size of the rink, and the title is “Before the Last One.” And Dan knows how that game ended and so he’d like to say that it is that knowledge that makes his heart squeeze at the shot but he knows that’s not true.

Neither of them have said anything, he realizes, not for the last twenty pictures.

“Oh,” he says and when he looks up at the professor again, her eyes are hard and sad behind her glasses.

“Yes,” she says. He understands why she was nervous. “Oh.”

He has a story, he realizes. He might have _the_  hockey story of the year. Not that he should assume, not that he could ever write something based on this information alone but he is a journalist and he has a lead and he could find the old house in these photos and find #15 and maybe there _isn’t_  a story but a good journalist would follow up. A good journalist would ask questions.

“Is he– Are they–?”

“He takes pictures of his teammates,” she replies. Closing her laptop with a sharp click and glaring at him. “That’s all he ever said to us.”

“Oh.”

They sit in silence for a long moment and then the professor asks the question he is not quite ready to answer.

“Do you need anything else?”

It’s not what she is asking and they both know it.

For a moment, he imagines it. being the one to break the story and he tells himself that he would do it right. He would do it respectfully and he _should_ be the one to do it because he would put a positive spin on it, of course he would. Or- or maybe he could do it subtly. He could weave it in to a story on Jack’s time at Samwell and it would all be little odd phrases that no one else would ever pick up on unless you were _looking_  for it and, yes, he would do it right. Just subtle enough that when – if Zimmermann ever decided to do anything, people could look back and say “Oh yes that Dan Erikson _knew_ , what a great writer!” – or, no. No he could go to Zimmermann and just ask and he would be blunt and honest about what he knew or suspected and supportive- still supportive and this would launch his career. He could have all the follow-up interviews and people would interview _him_  about how he found out and he wouldn’t get stuck entirely with the fluff pieces anymore and–

“No,” he says, clearing his throat and pushing back temptation. No, he’s not that type of journalist. Had promised himself he never would be. “No, thank you, but I don’t think these will be relevant to my article. It’s going to be a rather short piece, you know. Just on the basics of Zimmermann's time in college.”

He walks out before she can say anything else, feeling light-headed and flustered.

A few days later he gets an email. Its from jsimpson@samwell.edu and he opens it to find a few of the group pictures from Zimmermann (that don’t show too much if you don’t know what to look for) and a picture clearly taken with a self-timer (”he sent me this to add to his final portfolio but i had to reject because I dont accept timed pictures”) of… all of them. The group is making ridiculous faces and Zimmermann is barely in frame, squished into the side and _technically_ , its not a great picture. There is a sunstreak along the side and most of the people aren’t looking at the camera and the house looks particularly crappy in the background and Dan is going to have to crop the cooler-full of beer in the corner out but-

Zimmermann is smiling. A soft, full smile full of laughter and joy as he looks over at his teammates and it’s perfect.

“Thought these could help” the text of the e-mail says and it’s not enough to make his article go viral, but people enjoy it and he keeps writing fluff and Dan is happy with his work. Proud of it even if the rest of the world won’t really know why.

He even gets e-mail from jzimmerman@samwell.edu and it says “I really enjoyed the article. Thank you.” 

And then years later, he will get pulled into a room and told that Jack Zimmermann wants do to a personal story about an upcoming announcement.

And he wants Dan Erikson to write it.

 

[End Part 1}

 

* * *

 

* (real talk: no idea if this is how this would work, in fact, for thesis papers i think they are automatically available to the public but... tis fic) 


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, so back to this Dan Erikson guy.

It’s three years after he wrote his article on Jack Zimmermann’s college experience and, look, he’s generally too busy to obsessively stalk one hockey player because his day job involves roaming the country and doing all the feel good stories that go on that last page of Sports Illustrated, but every once and awhile, he takes a night to watch Jack’s interviews and he’s not looking for clues, per se but…

Well, he is a journalist. And the answer to the unspoken question of the Blond boy in all the photographs itches at him. Because… _journalist_.

So for three years now, he has sort of drawn his own conclusions. He notices how Jack never brings a date to events and he finds the blog of a certain Southern Baker and notes how there is an abrupt shift from sadness to ‘barely contained  _glee_ ’ after graduation. And he notices that the “friend’s kitchen” Bitty shoots his most recent videos at is very nice. Very spacious. And he seems to never use his own. And so when Dan Erikson gets told that the Falconers want to meet with him (and that they asked for him by name), he has a flash of “they know I have been stalking Jack Zimmermann and I am about to be sued,” which, frankly, makes no sense but he still shows up to the meeting in his best suit and manages to look like a nervous idiot in front of all the publicity interns and if he thought it was bad then, it’s nothing compared to when he is shown into a conference room.

Because _Jack Zimmermann_ is already there. Like… in the room.

It’s a good thing 50% of a journalist’s job is acting neutral in the face of anything because that’s all that keeps Dan from freaking out. But he manages. Admirably if he does say so himself. He shakes hands with George and then with someone from the Falconers legal team and then with Jack Zimmermann and they all sit down.

And the legal person- Michelle, he thinks her name is - she jumps in and starts talking about how this information cannot leave the room until written in an official article and they’ve already discussed this with Sports Illustrated and - honestly he sort of stops listening because Jack Zimmermann looks like he does when the Falconers have just won Game 1 of a playoff series. Aka he looks intense and focused and it’s not that he’s _un_ happy, per se, but he’s not celebrating quite yet.

Also, his fingers drum once against the table before he stops them and that reads as _nerves_.

Dan wants to tell him he already knows. That he saw the pictures three years ago and he’s suspected and this proves it and he still has no idea what he’s _doing_ here.

Finally, Michelle goes quiet and there’s a beat of silence before:

“I’m gay,” Jack announces. “I’d like you to write the article.”

Dan blinks once because that makes no sense. For good measure he does it again before managing to push a word out. And then that word is simply:

“What?”

Jack’s eyes cut nervously to George. “I’m gay,” he repeats. “And my boyfriend and I- well, we’ve been dating for almost four years now. We’d like to come out.” His voice has gone a bit hard by the end of the statement and Dan looks to see both George and Michelle glaring at him and he realizes abruptly that they think he is surprised because Jack is _gay_. And they are taking his silence for something other than shock.

“No!” He says, jerking back into action. “No, I mean I knew that.”

“How?” George demands. The tone of her voice matches her glare. “What are you talking about?”

“The pictures!” He says. “I saw Jack’s pictures from photography class when I did the article on Jack’s college years. I mean, I didn’t now but I… I guessed? I just don’t understand why you want me to write it?”

George’s glare has been replaced by beaming smile and Michelle looks ready to hug him and–

“Well, that’s why actually,” Jack says. “I liked that article. You are a good writer.”

Dan wonders if that’s how Jack always gives out compliments. Short, direct hits while maintaining eye contact that somehow conveys complete sincerity. It’s ruthlessly effective. Even if Dan didn’t want this job more than life itself, he would probably take it just because of that.

“Oh,” he says. “Well, thank you. I-”

“We’ve already talked to Sport Illustrated. Even not completely knowing what it’s about, they want it to be the cover story. Probably about 6 pages.”

George says it casually. Like she isn’t handing Dan’s dream to him on a silver platter.

Dan gets one page per issue. One page of fluff pieces. He covers the seeing eye dogs that are trained to help a blind girl play softball and the peewee football team who decide to raise money for a homeless shelter. He covers a few tear-jerkers here and there but they are all short and he thinks he’s a good writer but he does not cover multi-millionaire NHL hockey _superstars_ who want to come out of the closet.

“Are- are you sure?” He asks. “I mean, I- there are more experienced reporters who are used to doing long interviews.”

This is a big deal. Fuck, this is a big deal- not just for Jack but for the NHL and for professional sports and–

“I know” Jack says. “I want you to write it. Will you?”

This morning is stupid, Dan decides. It’s so stupid it can’t even be a dream.

“Okay,” he says.

And they’re off. Once he’s agreed, Michelle and George each whip out a hundred different forms for him to sign and he manages to ignore Jack Zimmermann and read over things, remembering that he is a professional and arguing a few points and there is a brief period of time where everyone realizes they don’t have a pen (what kind of reporter _is_ he) but Jack Zimmermann offers to go run to George’s office to get one and all in all, it is the quickest thirty minutes of Dan Erikson’s life.

He doesn’t think it’s fully hit him. That _he_ is going to be the one to break this story. That it will be his name in the tagline and people will remember this article, that it is going to go down in history no matter how terrible he makes it so he better make it good and – okay, maybe it’s starting to hit him.

“You really knew this whole time?” Jack asks as they both hang back to let the women through the door first. He sounds a bit awed. It makes Dan uncomfortable. “Just based on pictures.”

“Just a guess but… you were pretty obvious, kid,” he says and is rewarded by Jack _flushing_. Which, generally Dan would count as a success (real emotion is always a success in his game) but also, why is he calling Jack Zimmermann “kid”? He’s a young, hip 44. He is not old enough to call NHL superstars kid. God, this article is going to be rough if he is going to act like an asshat the whole time.

“Oh, well, uh, let me give you my number,” Jack replies. “So you don’t have to go through George to plan all of this.”

Dan smiles and gives Jack his in turn “in case you have any questions” and sits in the car attempting to breathe and not freak out for 10 minutes before driving away.

*^*^*^

Dan’s first idea is to talk to Jack and then to Bitty separately just because he likes doing that sometimes. He has never written a coming out story but he has written plenty about couples (woman pushes paralyzed husband in a marathon to fulfill his dream of completing one; man proposes after buying his girlfriend season tickets to the Eagles; man hit in the face with a hockey puck finds romance in the nurse that cared for him; etc..) and it can be really fun. To have both people tell the same story and then to mash-up what each one said about the event. He figures he’ll get Jack’s more short and simple sides of some good stories and what it has been like for him and then he’ll ask Eric (Bitty? - that is all Jack ever calls him and so at this point Dan has no idea what to call him because Bitty seems too familiar but Eric oddly formal and, shit, he’ll deal with that later) and do a mashup. At least to start. He’d grab them both together after he has the best stories because then you can ask them to confirm them and snag some witty banter as they disagree and-

Look, it’s a good plan and he’s done it before and he gets five minutes into his one-on-one interview with Jack Zimmermann before realizing he is an idiot.

He’s seen Jack do postgame interviews for almost four years now. He’s not sure what he was expecting.

He gets a few good details - Jack’s tendency to blush and the fact that he gets very fidgety and the way his mouth keeps sliding into a little half smile - but generally, Jack is Jack. He treats it like a press conference. He meets Dan’s gaze head on when Dan is asking questions but then looks down and takes a full beat to reply and every word is careful. He says some sweet things, to be sure, about how wonderful his life is with Bitty in it and how grateful he is to Samwell but it’s not what Dan is looking for.

Dan wants the Jack from the pictures he still has saved on his laptop - he wants the Jack who took pictures of a swan and then also a snowman the size of a giant and whose best pictures are the ones of his teammates even if they are drunk and dangling off the roof and–

Dan realizes his mistake five minutes in and stays for another fifteen to be polite but it’s not going to work. That’s okay though. Some couples get nervous when they are on their own.

Onto Plan B.

*^*^*^

So he brings in Eric. And Dan thought this was going to be the key. He’d get the guy that Jack is clearly crazy about in to get the ball rolling and he’s stalked Bitty’s blog enough to know that for every one word Jack usually says, Bitty can say a whole sentence so, in his head, the challenge is going to be making sure Jack remembers that technically he is the famous hockey player and needs to talk at least a little so that Dan can write something other than “Jack blushes and stares at his boyfriend.” Though, actually, Dan is a damn good writer (Jack Zimmermann said so!) and if anyone can take Jack’s silence and turn it into something relatable and readable and oddly endearing, it is Dan Freaking Erikson.

He feels confident and ready and then Plan B fails. Spectacularly.

Eric looks uncomfortable in the conference room seats and he keeps shifting and fiddling with things that aren’t there and when Jack tries to take his hand, he… well, he doesn’t flinch exactly but he definitely jumps and his eyes flick to the glass where anyone can see inside and–

This is not the Eric that Dan has seen on his vlog. He’s tense and nervous and that makes Jack tense and nervous and Dan uses every “put them at ease” trick he has in his arsenal (the gentle nudges rather than direct questions, putting down his pen and relying on the tape, turning the tape off and just listening himself, cracking jokes) and it all fails.

The answers get more and more rehearsed - or at least they sound that way - and somehow it all becomes platitudes. “I think it works because we both really respect each other.” “Jack has always supported me in my dreams even though they aren’t… you know, playing professional hockey.” “Bitty completely understood why we had to keep our relationship secret though it will be a relief to be done with it.” “Yeah, it will be… nice. Really nice.” “Yes, the guys on my team have known for about a year now. They have been really great.”

It’s not that it’s bad, it’s just… it’s not right either. Jack started the meeting with a kind of nervous excitement but has since faded to his awkward, post-game self. And Eric is… Every so often he seems like he _wants_ to go on a ramble but he only lets himself get a few sentences in before he’s fading out into uncomfortable silence, looking lost.

After a particularly bad moment, when Eric had started talking about how to make Jack’s favorite pie (and maybe Dan could use something from that?) and then abruptly realized what he was doing and mumbled “Sorry, not that you are writing out the recipe, I- uh, silly of me. Sorry. Uh.” and then waved his hands and clamped his mouth shut, Dan decides to take a break.

Or, more accurately, he decides to let them take a break. He smiles his best ‘you’re doing great’ smile at the pair of them and confesses he has to use the men’s room and politely pretends not to see the relief that pours off both their faces.

And it’s not his proudest moment, but he merely washes his hands and then finds himself hanging around the corner from the conference room. Before the glass starts. Aka where he can see (and hear) them without them knowing.

Look, he’s a journalist. And knowing what’s wrong will help him. Probably.

And it becomes instantly clear something is wrong. Both boys (and they are boys, Dan realizes. Eric only 25, Jack not even 30) are sitting and Dan can’t hear what they are saying but Jack looks concerned and Bitty is carefully not making eye contact, just sort of twisting his hands in his lap and Dan already knows he is not going back in until they have at least _talked_ to each other.

Finally, Eric looks up. He looks scared. Dan kicks himself. He must have done something wrong. People aren’t supposed to look _scared_ in interviews with him.

“I’m sorry,” Eric says, quiet enough that Dan has to lean forward a little bit. Luckily neither boy is paying the outside world any attention whatsoever. “Sorry, I–”

“Bitty-” Jack reaches for him but Eric jumps up and starts pacing.

“I don’t- I don’t know why I can’t _do_ this,” he sounds like he’s panicking. “I- I love you and I’ve been wanting to talk about you for-for years, about _this_ for my whole life and–”

“We don’t have to-” Jack says. He stays sitting but it looks like it’s an act of will. Dan wonders if this is why Jack is so still in interviews. If even without Eric there, Jack has learned to be the steady one, the calm one that other people orbit around.

“I _want_ to,” Eric replies. “I just- I don’t know how. To talk about you. To talk about us.”

“It’s my fault,” Jack offers. He sounds miserable. “I never should have forced you to keep it hidden for so long.”

“No,” Eric says, turning towards Jack again. “No, it’s not that. That… we made that decision together. It’s… It’s so _stupid_. I’m being silly.”

“It’s not stupid,” Jack says automatically. “And you’re not being silly. I just– what is it? What’s wrong? Do you not want to do it like this? We don’t have to. I could just make a statement or, hell, we could just post it to twitter, Bittle, I don’t care as long as you’re–”

“I keep wondering if they are going to read it.”

The admission is quiet and soft and Dan doesn’t know what it means but Jack stands immediately. Moves in a way that professional athletes do because instead of freezing, they are trained to _do_ something and he stands but then stills and looks at a loss for what to say. Eric keeps going.

“I- I know we told them when I moved in and I- I know… I know they weren’t… I haven’t talking to them since my dad’s birthday, Jack. Since we said that I shouldn’t because it wasn’t healthy and you were so brave and you told her to stop calling if she was just going to cry and you said they don’t deserve me, not until they can accept me but–”

He stops and takes a gulp of air and Dan finds himself unable to do the same.

“Do you think she’ll read it?” Eric asks. He’s ended up standing at the other side of the room. Jack takes a step closer and then stops.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I– maybe?”

“I want her to,” Eric says, but his hands twist around themselves. He looks down at them and frowns and his next words come out more firm. “I want her to know I’m happy. That I can be happy without her. That I don’t need them or their approval and I want to do it like this but…”

“Bittle.” Jack takes another step forward but Eric rocks away. He looks horrified and his left arm his curled around his stomach, his right hand twisted in his hair.

“A part of me is still… I don’t know- embarrassed?” Eric says. Dan’s heart clenches. “No, not embarrassed, not that but- but– I… I feel… like I shouldn’t be talking about this. Like it’s _wrong_ even though it’s not and I know that but I can’t– what if she reads it and it makes it worse? Like we’re rubbing it in her face and then she is even more disappointed and–

“I want to do this,” Eric says. It sounds like he’s trying to be firm again. It comes out more desperate. “I want to do this so badly and they are _gone_ and they probably won’t read it at all so it’s _stupid_ but they are still… I can’t believe they are _ruining_ this. And I’m being- I’m–”

He’s not crying. How, Dan doesn’t know because Dan feels like crying and he’s twenty years older than Eric Bittle and he’s not the one who has to deal with this but–

Eric is standing there, looking determinedly up at the ceiling, mouth twisted shut and he’s not crying but his breath is hitching as if he might.

Jack steps toward him and, for the first time, Eric doesn’t flinch away. He doesn’t move towards him but he lets Jack wraps his arms around him.

“I’m sorry,” Eric says and his voice breaks. “I’m so sorry. I’m okay. Let me j-just–”

“Please,” Jack says over him. “Bitty, please don’t–” His voice drops, lower than Dan can hear and Dan realizes that he isn’t supposed to be here. That no one is supposed to see this. And he hates it and himself and hates that there is a part of him that is upset because it figures the one thing that he could use in this article, the one thing he’s heard today that would make it _real_ , is something he’s not allowed to use.

Still, he takes a mental picture of the moment: Eric with his fists curled into the front of Jack’s shirt; Jack holding Eric and murmuring in his ear in the middle of a too-formal, impersonal conference room; both of them looking both much older and much younger than they are.

Then he leaves for another ten minutes and makes sure he looks semi-normal. And then he makes a point of basically stomping up to the room. They must hear him because they are sitting down again, though their hands are tangled together on top of the table now.

“Hey, guys!” Dan says. His smile is too big. He just knows it. It’s big and fake and they are going to know that he was eavesdropping and, god, he should not have done that. He is a scumbag reporter even though he’s not going to report any of it. Still. It was a private moment. He shouldn’t have listened. “Sorry about that- ran into George and we wound up chatting.”

Both boys look like they didn’t even realize he had been gone almost twenty minutes. Eric looks wiped. Jack looks defeated. But he opens his mouth to say something. Dan doesn’t give him the chance.

“I was actually thinking,” Dan says. “I feel like I got a lot today so how about we call it for now? I’ll work up a draft and then call you with follow-up questions? Does that sound okay?”

“Yes,” Jack says immediately. “Sounds good.”

“I’m sorry,” Eric says. His voice is oddly steady. It’s gone a bit more southern somehow as if that’s how apologies come out. Or maybe it’s easier to force politeness around the curves of longer syllables. “If this isn’t what you needed. I mean. I-” He flounders.

“We’re both not used to talking about each other, I guess,” Jack says and the smile he gives Dan is so well-practiced it looks like it belongs to another person altogether. Dan still clutches onto it like a lifeline.

“No, no, this was great,” Dan says, matching fake smile for fake smile. “You guys gave me plenty, I’ll hit you up later for more particulars but don’t stress about it. You’re good, really. Thanks for talking with me.”

He watches as Jack herds Eric up and out the door, neither of them really paying him any attention as he pretends to take some notes.

There is no doubt in his head that they both knew he was lying.

*^*^*^

“Hi, Dan,” Jack says on the phone later that night. Then, without preamble. “We’re thinking about pushing this back.”

Dan’s brain goes offline for a second and he thinks back to the boy’s conversation in the conference room and what his own quick google search of the Bittle family had brought up and–

“No,” he says. “No, you can’t.”

He realizes abruptly that he has no reason for reacting so strongly. That he can’t very well go on a rant about how Eric- Bitty has to stand up to his parents and how he should do this and how Dan is going to making them _wish_ they hadn’t fucked up so badly and it’s not his place to tell anyone how or when to come out to the world but he…

He can do this.

Unless, “Does Eric want to push it back?” He asks carefully. He won’t force it if that’s the case, he tells himself. He’s waited for three years. He can wait.

“No,” Jack says. “No, he wants to do it still, I just- well, maybe it would be easier if we waited a bit longer?” It sounds vaguely like a question and, dammit it all to Hell, Jack must be scrambled right now. He knows better than to ever ask a reporter anything. You don’t give them openings like that.

But Dan is on Jack’s side. And he’s right on this. He knows it.

“Well, then, I mean, I think now is a great time for it,” he offers, trying to sound casual. “Mid-season so other teams are still making playoff runs so those stories will take over the news cycle. The Falconers already secured so less pressure for you. It’s a good plan.”

“Yes, well, originally that’s what we thought too.” Jack starts. “But–”

“Let me write it up,” Dan begs. “I’ll write it up and show you and if you don’t like it, we don’t print it. But let me try.” It’s not what they had agreed on. Dan had actually insisted that no one from the Falconers read it before it was printed because he’s not writing an advertisement and that’s not journalistic integrity on his end and they are going to have to trust that he is not a secret raging homophobe who wants to destroy Jack’s career.

Still, he’ll give it to Jack if that will help. Jack pauses and then–

“Okay,” he says. “No rush. We wanted to do it before playoffs but maybe we’ll just wait till the season-”

“No!’ Dan yelps. He can’t help but feel that he’s failing them both. He’s ruining the plan. “Just- give me some time.”

“Okay,” Jack says, but he sounds tired. Tired and sad and the Falconers win that night but Jack’s conference is dull and lifeless and a reporter actually asks him if he is feeling well and Dan’s heart breaks a little when Jack replies “Oh, no, I’m sorry, I’m fine just… actually, I’m sorry everyone I just- I’m going to cut this short today. I’m sorry. Thank you.”

*^*^*^

It comes to him at two in the morning, as most of his great ideas do.

He’s been staring at his old article for four hours, trying to figure out what made it so good, what made Jack so happy that he would request that _he_ be the one to break the news and then he finds himself looking at the old pictures and looking at _Bitty_ and thinking about all he had to go through and re-watching his videos from his college days and smiling at one where two guys, Ransom and Holster, burst in halfway through to steal all the raw cookie dough before Eric can cook them and-

“Ya’ll are gonna get sick!” Bitty yells, looking cross only around the mouth. His eyes are laughing. “I don’t care if you’re captains now- this is not feudal england! I am not a peasant! Do not make me–” The video cuts out and then back in again. Bitty’s hair is mussed and his clothes are rumpled and he is grinning at the camera and “Well, I guess these were actually no-bake cookies, folks. But don’t blame me if you get sick. Raw eggs are unhealthy.” “BUT DELICIOUS” a voice screams and with a last fond eyeroll, the video actually ends.

“I don’t want to write the article,” he calls and tells Jack Zimmermann at 9am the next morning. “Not the one we talked about.”

Jack’s shocked silence greets him and he realizes that he hadn’t worded that correctly (but, hey, he hasn’t slept yet so he can’t be blamed and he’s not sure if there _is_ a legal limit on how much coffee a person can consume in six hours but he’s not sure he would let himself drive right now.)

“I mean, I want to write a better one,” he says. “About you. And Bitty. And all of it.”

“Um-”

“It’s gonna be good,” he promises and he hopes that Jack can hear the confidence in his voice, that the special something that makes Jack a great captain makes him realize that Dan is _right_ about this. “I just need your permission for a few things.”

To his credit, Jack doesn’t ask too many questions. He lets Dan explain why he thinks they should take this in a new direction and his vision for expanding the focus and Dan is quite sure he’s not really making sense and, actually he struggles to answer the few follow up questions Jack does have. At one point he writes a post-it note that just says “CALL AND EXPLAIN BETTER” but Jack seems to trust him ( _he must be used to trusting lunatics,_ Dan thinks idly and _god, this is going to be so good_ and oops, he says that last part aloud but Jack’s laughing so it’s okay.)

So Jack says yes, sounding cautiously optimistic and Dan has his article.

*^*^*^

Of course, because this is his life, he hits a few more roadblocks.

His first phone call goes something like this:

“I’m writing an article about Jack Zimmerm–”

“Sorry, brah.”

“Wait, no, I - he-”

The phone rustles as if it’s being handed over and the second voice is female.

“Fuck off.”

Then they hang up.

The next number he calls, someone answers only to scream “CORAL REEF” at him before he gets a single word out. When he tries to call back, the phone has been taken off the hook. He then gets hung up on two more times, a “great captain, chill dude” description, but really, the most he gets is from a number in California and that’s just “No thank you!!- but sorry, god I’m really sorry but really no, no but have a nice day, okay? Like seriously- he is the best though. But don’t print that because he’s private but really- the _best_ but sorry!”

He tries again the next day and even after he _explains_ the situation to all of them (he knows about Jack and Bitty, Jack asked him specifically to write this article, blah, blah), he gets very little. Everyone is stiff and formal and talks about how “Jack was a great captain, really good with the guys, made all of us better players” and Dan is ready to pull his hair out because he has _seen_ the pictures and he _knows_ this is the right path but all these stupid boys must have been taking calls from the playbook of Jack Zimmermann (or dealt with a lot more reporters trying to get dirt on Jack Zimmermann than Dan previously expected.)

So Dan calls Bitty and goes for broke.

*^*^*^

Dan has to wonder if he’s made yet another misstep when he walks into the Zimmermann-Bittle household and is greeted by Jack Zimmermann, Eric Bittle, and 6 ex-hockey players who regard him with nothing but open suspicion and seem ready to resort to violence if he says one wrong word. Oh, and there’s a tiny, tiny girl who looks ready to murder him regardless of what words he uses.

“Okay, guys,” he says. “Just so everyone knows the deal, I am going to record this and take notes but don’t feel like you have to hide anything. I am not here to make Jack look bad. Promise.”

He gets literally nothing. None of them even move. Except for the one he now knows is Chowder. Chowder is on the floor in front of the big arm chair and he opens his mouth like he wants to start talking but then looks back and sees that everyone else is _stonewalling_ him and clicks his mouth shut.

“So,” he starts. Bitty looks worried. Jack looks a strange mixture vaguely proud and vaguely judgmental. “Jack was captain for three years at Samwell, right?”

A nod. He gets a single nod from the one who introduced himself as Shitty.

“I take it he must have been very good at his job.”

“He _was_!” Chowder finally blurts. “The best!”

“Chow-” the redhead, Dex, says. “We _agreed_ –”

“Wait, did y’all _plan_ something?” Bitty demands. “Guys, we’ve told you, you are  _supposed_ to talk to this one!”

“I don’t trust him,” Ransom declares. He is squinting at Dan as if he’s not entirely sure he’s real. “Reporters are evil.”

“I still say you should have us write it,” Holster agrees. Even sitting down he looks huge.

“Jack sent me the contract,” Shitty says. “He doesn’t even get to read it before it goes to print?”

“Not cool,” the girl called Lardo (she is the one who told Dan to fuck off before, Dan is positive) “Not cool.”

“ _Guys_ ,” Jack mutters at the same time Bitty says “Oh _lord_.”

“So!” Dan interjects. If he’s going to win this, he needs to do it without Jack and Bitty. At least at first. “He must have been quite the easy captain. For you to vote him in three years in a row.”

There’s a sort of stunned silence at that. A fair amount of silent communication seems to be happening between all of them. He pushes a little further.

“Nursey described him as ‘pretty chill,’” Dan adds, pretending to write something down and hoping he can keep the smirk off his face.

“He said _what_?” Dex says.

“I said chill _dude_!” Nursey protests. “I said chill dude! Not chill _captain._ ”

“Wait just a minute,” Holster sputters. “Jack is literally the _least_ chill dude I’ve ever met in my life. Do you guys remember the practice where he literally tried to  _kill_ us?”

“Which one, brah,” Shitty replies, throwing his hands up and turning to Holster. “Which _one_?”

“Jack tried to kill us no less than 42 times in practice,” Ransom says. “I have an excel sheet.”

“Pull it up!” Holster says. “ _That_ should be the article.”

“Okay, y’all are _weak_ ,” Bitty chimes in even as he leans over the couch to see what Ransom is pulling into his phone. “At least he wasn’t getting you up in the _middle of the night_ just so he could run into you repeatedly!”

“That was checking practice, Bittle,” Jack says. “You needed it.”

“DID WE NEED TO DO EAGLE PULLS FOR THIRTY MINUTES AND THEN GO RIGHT INTO Z DRILLS? DID WE NEED THAT?”

“Your fault, bro,” Lardo says to Bitty. “You seduced him with your pies and hockey is the only way Jack shows love.”

“We didn’t start dating until after we graduated,” Jack tells Dan seriously as the rest of the boys crowd around Ransom’s phone. “And I’ve never tried to kill anyone.”

“Okay, you are not printing _that_   bull,” Holster says, untangling himself from the group and leaning forward. “If you’re gonna write this article, then write it correctly. Jack is a violent hellspawn. Once he threw a table at me over a board game.”

“That was _you_!” Jack says, for the first time turning from Dan completely and sounding… different somehow. Younger, maybe. “You threw a table at me! All because I had _strategically_ controlled all the wood on the board!”

“IT WAS A CRUEL EMPIRE OF HATE! DON’T TELL ME IT WASN’T!”

“Don’t forget the time with the football team and the fire extinguisher,” Chowder says. “That’s a great story.”

“Chowder, we weren’t there for that.”

“I heard about it! And read about it!”

“According to that [other article](http://petals42.tumblr.com/post/141674283899/okay-but-the-fire-extinguisher-story-imagine-if), it was literally an act of terror.”

“Oh, christ, that was hilarious,” Holster says. “Wait, no, write about the time _Bitty_ tried to kill us.”

“I never!”

“After we stole all that free Mexican food, remember? He said we were monsters.”

“I still don’t understand why you were so upset about that,” Jack says. “We only took one tray.”

“A _whole tray_! After eating two more while we were at the event!”

“That’s not as bad as the pie eating contest,” Lardo notes. “You were really mad then.”

“ _Ransom threw up my pie!”_

“ _I was trying to win!”_

Dan never gets a chance to ask any more questions.

He doesn’t need to. He ends up pulling out his laptop to take notes because he can’t write fast enough (his biggest struggle becomes keeping the boys from reading over his shoulder and editing things) and at some point someone offers him a beer and when they run _out_ of beer, Ransom and Holster reveal that they brought a _keg_ in the back of their truck and “Oh, goodness!” Bitty says “You guys shouldn’t–” but it gets inside somehow and when Dan opens his notes the next day, there is a whole portion about Haus ghosts, the art of dibs, and the struggle to give Jack a nickname that he is quite positive he didn’t write and someone had imported an excel sheet entitled “Times Jack has Tried to Kill Us” which include detailed descriptions of the practices and “Pain Ratings” of everyone the next day.

He stares at it for a while and then closes it without editing. Because, frankly, he is more hungover than he has ever been in his life and at some point he is going to have to take a cab to pick up his car but right now he sort of wants to die.

He is pretty sure he has his story. At least, from what he remembers. Maybe. Whatever.

*^*^*^

The article comes out.

It gets a full 8 page spread in Sport Illustrated and everyone who is in the know on what he has been working on like a madman for the past three weeks has been calling it the “Gay Hockey” story because that is what they assume it’s going to be about but–

Jack Zimmermann doesn’t officially come out of the closet until halfway through. And, really, if a person skims quickly, they might miss that first line, the first time Dan writes “The whole couch is laughing at him now and his boyfriend, Eric Bittle, leans over to poke him in the side, nodding in agreement as he does so.”

Because, like he told Jack on the phone after not sleeping for 36 hours, the article is not about Jack Zimmermann being gay.

The article is about Jack Zimmermann.

It’s a little bit about his overdose on anxiety medicine and a tiny bit about growing up in Bad Bob’s shadow and there is a shred more on his time as an assistant coach but that is going to have to be a different story because after five minutes of fumbled stories, the old Samwell team had gotten restless and Shitty had screamed: “Get to the GOOD part” and then two others agreed “His sophomore year when WE turned up!” And that had led to a fight which was ended by “Y’all, clearly the best thing is when _I_ arrived” (Bitty had had a few drinks by that point) and Jack had nodded and half the couch had started chirping him, the other half noting: “Dude, that is when we started getting PIE!” and the article is not about being gay in the NHL.

The article is about Jack Zimmerann’s best friend Shitty, who dislikes clothes and who still likes to go on rants about the needless gendering of bathrooms and who keeps getting his stories mixed up but smirks at Dan just a little the third time Jack jumps in to tell the correct ending of whatever nonsense Shitty is rambling about. It’s about the two D-line men who still live together and have a secret handshake that requires at least ten feet of free space and ten minutes to complete (they had moved the furniture even though Bitty tried to get them to just do it outside). It’s about another pair of linemen who bicker throughout the entire interview but still grin when they tell the story of constructing a zip line between two academic buildings their sophomore year and don’t seem to realize that the story has nothing to do with Jack.

The article is about a girl called Lardo, who once beat Kent Parson in beer pong, who painted almost all the artwork in Jack Zimmermann’s apartment, who still can’t really skate, who says the least verbally but who all the boys look to for approval. It’s about the time the boys played hockey at three in the morning and their ongoing prank war with the lacrosse team and how Jack Zimmermann used to make them all watch history documentaries. It’s about the time they hid Jacks copy of The War and he made the whole team skate suicides until someone told him where they were (“I still can’t believe you broke, Ransom! So not chill.” “We were going to DIE. I studied biology. I knew what was happening to our muscles!” “I didn’t think they were that bad.” “Shut up Bitty.” “Guys, no one was dying and I was technically doing them _with_ you.” “I am basically a DOCTOR. I am the expert!” “Also, it was during the pre-season. We would have recovered by a game.” “YOU DON’T RECOVER FROM DEATH, JACK!”)

It’s about hardass captain Jack Zimmermann, who yelled at freshmen to eat more protein and who organized full scrimmages out on the pond and who woke up at 4:30 in the morning to help a player with checking practice. Who took every loss personally and who wasn’t always happy with victory if he didn’t think he played his best hockey. It’s about the fact that even during the interview, Jack tries to say that it’s important to always be critical so you can improve and it’s about the moment when he immediately gets tackled by Shitty as soon as the words are out of his mouth and the rest of them join in and Eric sighs as if he is very used to this and mouths “These boys” to Dan before telling the gang that anyone who breaks something isn’t getting pie later.

The article is about Eric Bittle, a short blond boy who crinkles his nose when Jack Zimmerman chirps him and covers his face when someone starts a story “then there was that time Bitty got drunk and–” its about his baking and his figure skating and Dan didnt mean for it to happen, but it becomes a little bit of an advertisement for Beyonce. It’s about the fact that Eric hasn’t spoken to his parents in eight months but Skypes “one of these crazy boys” almost every day and it’s about the pleased flashes of smugness that flitter across everyone’s face when he says that. It’s about how Jack Zimmermann chooses that moment to casually nudge his knee into Shitty’s and how Dan suddenly has no doubt there is a schedule of some kind. It’s about how ridiculous Bitty looks crammed between Ransom and Holster and how worried he looks in the moment right before someone takes a bite of a new pie recipe and how happy he looks when curled up next to Jack.

It’s about both of them. How they met and how they kept their relationship a secret and how important it is to them that other LGBTQ youth are supported, especially in sports teams. But it’s also a little bit about how when Dan asks if Jack is looking to be a role model, Jack looks confused by the question and Bitty smiles and says “I think he has been for a long time” and Chowder falls over in his haste to agree while Shitty slings an arm around his shoulders and shouts “HE’S ALWAYS BEEN A FUCKIN’ BEAUT” and, it didn’t make it in the article, but to Dan it’s still a little bit about how suddenly Ransom is there waving his cell phone screeching: “DO YOU REMEMBER THE SPREADSHEET?! DON’T LET HIM NEAR YOUR CHILDREN!” It’s definitely about the laughter that bubbles out of Jack and Bitty at that and the way Shitty tackles Ransom.

The article is about what Dan said it was going to be about: Jack Zimmerman and Eric Bittle and Samwell and love and family and–

All of it, really.

It’s about all of it.

 

[End.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for reading (and thanks to everyone on tumblr who inspired the second part and encouraged me to post it on AO3!)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic of] Ethics of Journalism](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6512293) by [Podcath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Podcath/pseuds/Podcath)




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